


Miraculous DC: A Mockingbird in Paris

by C_R_Scott



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Miraculous Ladybug, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_R_Scott/pseuds/C_R_Scott
Summary: The Eiffel Tower Incident in Paris introduced two young new heroes (Ladybug and Chat Noir) and a new supervillain (Le Papillon) to the world. This event did not go unnoticed by the Justice League.(a pre-New52 DCU/Miraculous Ladybug crossover fusion)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1 - The Eiffel Tower Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eiffel Tower Incident in Paris introduced two young new heroes (Ladybug and Chat Noir) and a new supervillain (Le Papillon) to the world. This event did not go unnoticed by the Justice League.
> 
> (a pre-New52 DCU/Miraculous Ladybug crossover fusion)

A variety of news reports and videos played on the main screen of the Justice League conference room on their outer space Watchtower satellite. Gathered around the table were the senior leaders of the heroic defensive organization. 

They’d been watching these videos and reading real-time reports from Paris since the news first broke several hours earlier. The appearance of both a powerful new supervillain and vigilantes who seemed to be barely teenagers had spurred them to this emergency meeting. Fortunately for them, one of them had at least a general idea of what was going on.

“Each of these individuals appears to possess mystical items called Miraculous,” Zatanna, the leader of the mystics faction of the Justice League said. Her long black hair was streaked with a single lock of white that cut across her temple before being wound up into a bun that was held in place by a jeweled stick that looked suspiciously like a wand. She stood at the front of the conference room next to the digital screen. “They’re powerful artifacts that can grant their wielders unique abilities.” She paused one of the videos and expanded it to fill the entire screen. On screen were the three major players of the Eiffel Tower Incident: a girl dressed in red with black spots, a boy dressed in black with a distinctive feline theme, and a floating giant head that appeared to be made of a swarm of purple butterflies.

“So these people are not metahumans?” Superman asked. He sat at the head of the large conference room table. His black hair was touched with streaks of silver gray at the temples, and small lines of age around his eyes gave him a distinguished appearance. 

Zatanna mused over the question before shaking her head. “Can’t be 100% certain at this point, but it’s more likely these are normal human beings. The only thing I know for sure is that the powers they’re exhibiting are derived from the Miraculous.”

The sorceress zoomed in on each individual one at a time. “The villain calling himself Le Papillon possesses the Butterfly Miraculous. This one gives the wielder the power of metamorphosis, the ability to transform ordinary people into… something more. In his hands, he appears to be mind controlling innocent people to turn them into villains to serve his own goals.”

She zoomed in on the young teenage boy who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen years of age. “This is Chat Noir. He possesses the Black Cat Miraculous, which gives him the power of destruction.” Zatanna activated a video which showed the boy’s destructive powers in action as a section of the Eiffel Tower immediately corroded into rust at his touch.

There was a murmur of shared concern over how such powers were in the hands of both a power-hungry villain and a teenager that looked like he’d only just reached his teens.

Finally Zatanna zoomed in on the girl. She was dressed in a red bodysuit covered in black spots and her black hair was tied back in twin pigtails that made her look even younger and more childlike than her feline companion, though it was likely that they were close to the same age. “This girl here is calling herself simply Ladybug, and obviously she wields the Ladybug Miraculous, which has powers of creation. Between herself and Chat Noir, she appears to have taken on the role of leader. She's also special in that she appears to have access to multiple powers, not just one.

In one video, they watched as she threw her weapon, a yo-yo of all things, into the air and it returned to her transformed into a parachute. It seemed an odd thing at first, but after a short bit, it turned out to be exactly what she needed to defeat the stone creature she and Chat Noir had been fighting. “This first ability appears to be creating an instant deus ex machina for the battle she’s in. She’s heard calling it her ‘Lucky Charm’.”

In a second video they watched as she used her yo-yo again, but this time to capture a purple butterfly that escaped from the stone creature that had been terrorizing the city. When she opened her yo-yo, the butterfly was now pure white as it flitted away. “Ladybug also appears to have the ability to purify the butterflies created by Le Papillon to possess others, releasing them from his control.”

Finally, a third video showed Ladybug throwing the used parachute Lucky Charm into the air, where it transformed in midair into a swarm of glowing red ladybugs that swept through the city at lightning speed and repaired all the damage that had been caused by the battle. “And finally, she appears to have the power to reverse all the damage caused by other Miraculous users. Even Chat Noir’s destruction of part of the Eiffel Tower was fixed. The people in Paris have started referring to it as ‘the Miraculous Cure’.”

Clearly the abilities Ladybug possessed impressed the gathering of heroes. “Her ability to reverse so much destruction is remarkable,” Diana, still their Wonder Woman but now Queen of the Amazons, said. “Is it limited just to things changed by the influence of other Miraculous users, or can it be expanded to destruction caused by other forces?”

Zatanna shook her head. “Honestly, we don’t know. There used to be a society of Guardians who protected and studied the Miraculous for ages, but their last known temple was destroyed around two centuries ago. At that time, all the Miraculous and most of the knowledge about them were assumed lost. My husband actually had a few incomplete scrolls about the Miraculous in his mystical archives, but nothing too substantial. Since the Eiffel Tower Incident, though, he’s gone on an expedition to the location of the temple ruins to see if there’s anything else he can find that survived its destruction.”

“It sounds as if you’re saying there are, or at least were, more Miraculous than just these three in Paris?” Superman asked.

“Not sure how many in total, but Constantine’s scrolls seem to indicate there’s at least seven.” She pulled up a digital image of a mostly intact parchment drawing of a circular design. The symbols of the Ladybug and Black Cat rested with prominence in the center in a yin-yang configuration. Radiating out from there was a ring with five sections, each with what appeared to be different symbols, one of which was an obvious butterfly shape.

Jessica Cruz, the current leader of the Green Lanterns of Earth, stood up to take a closer look at the images on the screen. “So for two hundred years, these artifacts were thought lost, and suddenly three of them resurface in Paris at the same time, one of which appears to have fallen into criminal hands, and the other two into the hands of children?” She turned to Zatanna. “Why does Le Papillon want the Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculous? True they are powerful, but couldn’t he just, theoretically, create villains with similar powers?”

“I don’t think Le Papillon wants them for their obvious powers.” Zatana pulled up another digital image, this one of a half-burned parchment dating from an ancient era. “This scroll appears to indicate that if someone were to possess both the Miraculous of Creation and Destruction at the same time, it would grant them the power to make any wish their heart desires, but at a cost.”

“What kind of cost?”

“That explanation unfortunately was on the destroyed portion. But it’s probably safe to assume that it would be something bad.” Then she regarded the others with a grave expression. “Then again, I think the more pressing concern we should have is what kind of wish does Le Papillon want to make, and how quickly can we stop him.” Zatana looked to the screen where Ladybug and Chat Noir stood together, celebrating their first victory with a cheerful fist-bump. “Those two may be strong with their Miraculous, but they’re still just children beneath the masks. Paris hasn’t reached out to the League yet for our assistance, but we can’t sit by and do nothing until they call us. Those kids need our help.”

The others agreed. However, the current Flash, Wallace West, raised a concern.

“I don’t think we can send just anyone to Paris from the League.”

The others looked at him, and the thirty-something year old African American speedster clarified. “Consider Le Papillon’s power. It appears he can exert a level of mind control over his victims, in addition to giving them an incredible amount of raw power and new abilities. And right now we don’t know how he’s selecting and capturing his victims. What happens if we send over people who already have powers like Clark, Diana, or myself? Even someone who isn’t a metahuman, but has magic like you Zatanna, or a Lantern Ring like Jessica. If Le Papillon manages to capture and turn even just one of us in this room to his side, then it could be a catastrophe not just for Paris, but the rest of the world.”

Batman had been quiet for most of the meeting. Now he rose to his feet and asked Zatanna for control of the main screen. Once he had it, he swept the images and videos off to one side and brought up the current roster of all active and reserved members of the Justice League and satellite teams they worked with regularly. There were probably about a hundred heroes photos on the screen.

“So we need to be strategic with who we send to Paris,” he started. “First, we eliminate all metahumans, aliens, and magic users. We can’t risk them being captured and turned by Le Papillon against us until we can discover the limitations of his power ” More than two-thirds of the photos on the screen blinked out, leaving only human heroes.

Superman nodded. "Let's keep the teenagers out of this fight for now too. It's clear Ladybug and Chat Noir are very young and very green. While I’m sure they would appreciate support from peers close to their own age eventually, what they need right now is an adult or two who can start mentoring and training them, if they don't have anyone supporting them right now." 

About a fifth of the remaining roster vanished.

Wonder Woman studied who was left. Her eyes focused on one group specifically "We also need to send someone who can investigate Le Papillon. We need someone on the ground who can start hunting down who he really is so he can be brought to justice as quickly and efficiently as possible. Only then will Paris truly be safe." She looked to Batman, "We need your boys and girls. You’ve raised the best detectives."

Batman looked at the remainder which consisted solely of members tied to his team in Gotham and said nothing for a long moment.

"What's wrong Bruce?" Superman asked.

"The ones on the screen are good, but there’s one person who’s better than them all" The Dark Knight accessed a list of retired members of League and pulled one specific individual out for all to see.

Superman gave Batman a concerned look. "Are you sure? When he left the League, he was in a pretty bad place."

"I know Clark, but he's still the best detective of all of us in Gotham. He also has experience leading and mentoring a team of teenagers. If he can be convinced to help, he would be the best choice for any chance of success in Paris.”

* * *

In Gotham Academy, a text message pinged on the phone of a professor who was teaching foreign language to a class of high school students. After a quick glance at the screen, the phone was locked once more and shoved back into his pocket before continuing with his lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> \- On the Miraculous Ladybug side of this fusion, "The Eiffel Tower Incident" is everything from the "Stoneheart" episodes from Season 1.
> 
> \- On the DCU side of the fusion, this version of the DCU is based on pre-New52 Earth. Samples of differences between pre-New52 and current canon: (1)Barbara Gordan is Oracle and wheelchair-bound. (2)Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain were both Batgirl. (3)Superman and Wonder Woman never dated. (4)Alfred Pennyworth is alive and well.
> 
> \- However, on the DCU side of the fusion, there is a timeskip of around 15-17 years. This means all DC characters are aged up.
> 
> \- Currently the character tags are sparse because I don't want to reveal any major spoilers before they're revealed in story. I will update as I post, though.
> 
> \- This story will be the first thing I've written creatively in a very long while. My goal is to post a new chapter at least once per week. If you wish to read some of my older works from years ago, feel free to look through my archives.


	2. Chapter 2 - Promise Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne gets in contact with a retired Justice Leaguer in Gotham City and approaches them regarding the Paris Incident.

A bell rang out across the campus of Gotham Academy. A moment later, the relative peace of the campus’s exterior was erased by the flocks of uniformed students pouring out of the hallways at the end of their school day. Some were heading to their various extracurricular activities, others heading for their dorms or off-campus to head home. Occasionally a teacher appeared amidst the throngs of teenagers, clearly visible due to their ages and work attire. 

One such teacher stepped out of the school’s side entrance closest to faculty parking. He was zipping up a black leather motorcycle jacket over his burgundy dress shirt. The man had just settled atop a sleek black and red motorcycle and was about to put on a helmet in matching colors when the headlights of a black luxury car flashed at him twice from where it was parked on the other side of the iron fencing that surrounded the campus. The teacher shook his head wordlessly before the helmet was pulled on and the visor snapped shut. The motorcycle growled to life.

As the motorcycle turned towards the driveway that would lead to the street, the headlights of the black car flashed again. Twice… Pause for a full second… Twice again.

A full body sigh of resignation went through the teacher as he turned off the cycle’s engine and walked to the car. He didn’t bother to pull off his helmet until he’d settled on the back seat, and the driverless car was in motion. Then he looked at the man sitting to his left. 

"Hello Bruce."

Though he was midway into his sixties, Bruce Wayne still looked good for his age. His once jet black hair was now peppered with silver, and while his age showed in the deepening lines of his face, he clearly continued to work out and maintain his imposing physique.

“Tim.”

Timothy Drake-Wayne, a now fully grown man in his early thirties, sat silent for a long moment before he finally spoke to his adopted father. "Did someone die?"

"No."

The tension in Tim's shoulders eased. He didn't bother to mask the relief on his face. "Ok." He closed his eyes and relaxed back into the fine leather cushions. 

It was about a minute before he asked his second question. "Do you need me to be present for a stockholder meeting at Wayne Enterprises to form a majority voting block with you and Damian?"

"Possibly."

Tim sighed and opened his eyes. "I told Damian that Derek Powers was going to be trouble."

"What makes you think this is about Powers?"

"Am I wrong?"

Bruce's silence spoke volumes before he finally answered. "We've got our eyes on him."

"Right. And when Damian is done playing with his food, and when you're done wasting the company's time and money let me know. I've unearthed a couple of Powers's buried skeletons and have them in my back pocket for a rainy day."

"Do I want to know how you unearthed them?"

"Plausible deniability is a beautiful thing, Bruce."

"That doesn't sound very legal."

"Men like Powers don't care about legality. They care about winning. And I already have. Powers just doesn't know it yet."

Despite himself, Bruce chuckled fondly and regarded his son with an affectionate expression reserved only for him when he knew Tim had done something remarkably clever.

Tim's own expression softened into something more genuine himself. Whatever unspoken tension between the two of them that had been present was finally broken and both men seemed to finally be willing to relax around each other.

“So why am I really here, Bruce?” Tim finally asked. “No one’s dead and the company isn’t imploding. It can’t be a case. If anyone needed a consultation they’d just have Barbara forward me the details.”

Bruce’s smile faded into something more serious.

“It is a case?” Tim asked with a touch of confusion.

His father brought out a tablet secured in a black leather case that was stamped in gold with the insignia of the Justice League on the cover. “Not exactly,” Bruce said. “It’s a mission.”

Tim’s hand had been reaching out for the tablet, but the moment the word "mission" left Bruce's lips, his hand snapped away from it as if he'd been shocked. He looked at Bruce startled for a moment before settling into an expression of betrayal. “Stop the car,” he ordered.

“Tim-”

The younger man cursed under his breath before speaking again. “Computer. Unlock the Back Door."

To Bruce's visible surprise, his car's AI responded to Tim in a polite British accent. "Password?"

"B-I-A-F-A mark 101."

“Password confirmed. Administrator access granted. How may I serve you Mr. Drake?"

"Stop the car."

Obediently, the driverless car pulled over safely to the curb. Before he could open the door, Bruce laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“Wait.”

Tim stiffened at the commanding tone of Bruce’s voice. When he responded, his voice sounded even but tight. “No missions,” he said. “No field work. Nothing to do with the League or Batman Inc. aside from the odd consultation here and there. That’s what we agreed to when I retired.” He turned to glare at Bruce. “That’s what you promised me,” he hissed.

“I know.” 

To Tim's visible surprise, Bruce looked remorseful. Still, he jerked his shoulder out from under Bruce’s hand and put as much physical distance between himself and his father as he could within the confines of the car. “So why are you breaking that promise now?”

Bruce motioned to the tablet again. “It's the situation in Paris."

That piqued Tim’s interest. “Paris?”

His father gave him an odd look. “You weren’t aware of the situation there?”

Tim shrugged. “Just what I've heard on the news. Though I would've thought the League would've stepped in by now to take control of the situation." He regarded Bruce suspiciously. "Why haven't you?"

"The situation in Paris is _delicate_ and requires a specific set of qualities in whoever we send to investigate.” Bruce offered the tablet to Tim. “Before you say no, can you at least review the materials here? You don’t have to tell me your answer now, but at least look this over and consider it.”

With a sigh, Tim reluctantly took the tablet and placed it in the leather satchel he wore across his body. “I’ll look things over, but no promises.”

Bruce nodded. “Thank you Tim.” 

* * *

After being dropped back off at Gotham Academy, Tim rode his motorcycle back to his private home, which was still the refurbished movie theater near Crime Alley he’d taken ownership over a decade and a half earlier.

Once inside, Tim removed his satchel and jacket. He pulled out the leather-bound tablet and ran his thumb over the embossed insignia of the Justice League. Then he took a secret elevator downstairs into the sub-basement level of his home where his office resided.

As soon as he entered his office, the scanners scanned his biometric signals and immediately came to life. The lights came on, his coffee maker began brewing a fresh pot, and the most recent track on his favorite playlist, an older song from Jagged Stone’s first break-out album, started playing in the background. 

“Rise and shine, Archimedes” Tim said as he approached his custom built supercomputer. “Time to get to work.”

“Of course Timothy,” the computer replied in a voice similar to that used in Bruce's car. "You have twelve unread messages from your Gotham ISD email account and eight unread messages from your combined personal email accounts." A small tablet on Tim's desk flickered to life and the list of emails were displayed. "The homework assignments from your students today have been uploaded and are ready for review and grading." A laptop bearing the crest of Gotham Academy on its case turned on as well and the assignments were preloaded for his convenience. "Finally there are no new cases from Oracle. Which would you prefer to start with?"

"None of the above," Tim set the Justice League tablet on a scanner. “Please reopen the case file labeled _Miraculous Incident - Paris_. I need you to download all the data from this tablet and cross-reference it with the information already collected. Ignore any redundant information and highlight anything new. I’ll review those personally and decide how they fit into the bigger picture.” 

As Tim went to collect his first cup of coffee for the evening, the three biggest monitors of Tim’s workstation blinked to life. A large amount of information regarding the Miraculous conflict in Paris was stretched across all the screens, connected by straight lines like a giant spider's web. Tim sipped from his coffee and watched as his AI Archimedes stripped data from the tablet and flung them into various folders on the web. Occasionally, he would bring up a specific folder and review it on one of his own personal tablets while Archimedes continued its work. While the AI had completed parsing out the League data within 20 minutes, it was a solid two and a half hours later before Tim finished his own review of the new data.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he leaned as far back as his desk chair would allow. He sighed before addressing his computer.

“Archimedes. Bring up my travel itinerary on the main screen.”

On the central monitor, Tim’s passport, his plane ticket to Paris scheduled for this coming weekend, and his hotel reservation were all laid out, all under an alias. Everything was done modestly, as if he were an unassuming lower middle income American tourist looking to visit Paris for a few weeks.

“Ok. Cancel all of that and shelve the alias. Resubmit all reservations under my own name and passport and at the appropriate income level adjustments for a Wayne and set the departure date for the weekend.”

“First class or private jet?”

“First class on a red-eye.”

“Hotel preference?” Archimedes brought up a list of choices. Tim glanced through the most recent notes regarding the Miraculous conflict from the Justice League.

“One week reservation at Le Grand Paris,” Tim said. Then he paused. “Also, show me the current unoccupied Batman Inc safehouses in Paris.”

Archimedes pulled up a map that showed where each one was located. There were thirteen.

“Highlight those that are available for long-term civilian cover occupancy for a single person within walking distance of College Francoise Dupont.”

The choices on the map were reduced to three. 

Tim nodded to himself. “Good. Now locate the contact information for the head of the Neon Knights Paris branch. Draft a request for a teleconference meeting from Executive Director Timothy Drake-Wayne for sometime tomorrow that is amenable to both of our respective time-zones."

Archimedes sent the email draft to Timothy's tablet. "Request complete. Anything else sir?"

"Call Bruce on the cave line.”

A few moments later, “Have you made a decision?” Bruce asked.

“I’ll take the mission.”

“Thank you Tim. Who would you like to go with you?”

“No one.”

Bruce paused on the other end of the line. “You want to take this solo? Are you sure?”

“Positive. I wouldn’t mind having a link to Oracle for tech support, but I don’t need anyone else for this.”

“Don’t need or just don’t want?”

Despite not being able to see his father, Tim’s face reflected mild irritation at the question. "Bruce…" Tim said, a hard edge to his voice.

He heard the sigh on the other end of the line that signaled Bruce was trying hard not to start an argument with him. "So what do you _need_ for this mission?"

"Besides Oracle access and a list of gear I’d like to have shipped to Paris from the armory that I’ll send later, I also want one of the safe houses in Paris to set up as a personal apartment for a few months."

"You think the mission will take that long?"

"What I want is for this to be wrapped up within a week of me touching down in Paris so I can get back to my life here as soon as possible." Tim said as he glanced at a side desk where a collection of personal photos were displayed. Most were of his family and friends, past and present, both as a civilian and a former hero. There was one photo that was resting face down on the desk. With a somber expression, he lifted it up to gaze at the image contained within. 

"However, what I want and what will happen are often two vastly different things, if history is any indication."

"What alias do you want the safe house registered to?"

Tim set the photo back on the desk, face down. "None. I'm going as myself."

"Are you sure?"

"I've got a plan."

Tim could hear the fondness in Bruce's voice. "Of course you do."

"I'll send you the details in the morning."

“By the way,” Bruce said. “Because this is a League sanctioned mission, we need a code-name for you to use while in the field. Do you want me to reactivate Red R--”

“No!”

Tim clapped his hand over his mouth and there was a long moment of silence. He hadn’t intended to shout and it caught him completely off guard.

“Tim?” Bruce spoke up cautiously after a long moment. 

Slowly Tim brought down his hand. He took a slow deep breath to steady the sudden rush of nerves. “It's ok… I’m fine,” he said. Then he took another long breath and tried to will the lump in his throat to fade. “I’m fine.” After another breath, he felt more steady and back to his baseline.

“If the League needs a code-name for me,” Tim started more calmly. “Use  _ Mockingbird _ .” He sighed. “Now I have some papers to grade. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow after classes are done.”

“Alright. Talk to you tomorrow.” 

Once the connection was closed, Tim slumped into his desk chair and ran his hands over his face.

“What the hell am I doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you unfamiliar with the original Red Robin series pre-New52, here is a brief description of the Neon Knights organization:
> 
> The Neon Knights is a social foundation created by Timothy Drake and supported by Wayne Enterprises to help at-risk teenagers from turning to crime by providing youth shelters and community activities for youth gangs. He founded this alongside one of Lucius Fox's daughters (Tamara Fox) back when he was seventeen. Originally it was a Gotham-centric non-profit, but has since expanded across the United States and several international locations over the years.
> 
> \---
> 
> Derek Powers is a reference to a major villain from the Batman Beyond animated series.
> 
> \---
> 
> "B-I-A-F-A" stands for "Bruce is a f*cking ass".


	3. Chapter 3 - Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim arrives in Paris and reunites with old friends.

It was a typical morning at the Dupain-Cheng home above the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. Thirteen year old Marinette Dupain-Cheng had overslept (again) and was scrambling to get ready for school on time.

“No time for breakfast, Maman!” the petite teenager said as she was dashing down the stairs while tying her shoulder-length black hair into twin pigtails. As she snagged her lunch bag from the counter and was preparing to leave their apartment, she noticed that she was alone in the kitchen. “Maman?” she called out as her blue eyes scanned the empty room.

That was odd. Usually her mother, Sabine Cheng, waited until her daughter had left for school before going to help her father, Tom Dupain, in the bakery.

“Are you down here Maman?” Marinette called as she walked into the kitchen of the bakery, slowing to avoid causing any accidental disasters before entering the main storefront. She paused in the doorway as she noticed her parents talking to a man she’d never seen before. 

The stranger appeared to be in his mid-30s and was dressed in a pair of nice looking dark slacks with a stylish leather jacket. He was of average height with slim athletic build, despite being absolutely dwarfed by the presence of Tom Dupain, Marinette’s gentle giant of a father. His skin was pale and some of his short black hair fell slightly into his face. He also wore a pair of dark sunglasses that completely masked his eyes. Overall, the stranger looked like a fairly well-off gentleman, and it appeared her parents both knew him. Her petite mother’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, though Sabine Cheng also had a warm fond smile on her face as she spoke with the man, who seemed a bit embarrassed by all the attention.

“Papa? Maman?” Marinette asked cautiously as she stepped fully into the shop.

All three adults froze, obviously startled by the girl’s appearance. “Oh Marinette!” Tom was the first to respond. “We thought you’d left for school already.”

“Almost,” she said as she stepped a bit closer, curiosity winning over caution. “I’m on my way out now. Who’s this?"

Marinette’s mother found her voice. When Sabine spoke it was with a great deal of affection as she watched the stranger out of the corner of her eyes, as if she was afraid he was going to disappear when she wasn’t looking. “This is Timothy Drake. He’s a very dear old friend of ours from the United States that we haven’t seen in… goodness… over a decade now.” The tiny woman reached out and placed a hand on the stranger’s arm. “And Tim, this is--”

The stranger slowly pulled off his sunglasses, and Marinette could see for the first time that this man had kind blue eyes. “Marinette,” he said with a small smile. Though he had a slight American accent, his French was flawless. “You probably don’t remember me. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. God, look at how much you’ve grown.” He glanced back at Tom and Sabine and the smile he gave them seemed a bit sad at his eyes. “Really sinks in how long it’s been, seeing her all grown up." Tim turned back at the girl. "You look so much like your mother." 

Marinette felt her cheeks grow warm at the stranger’s fond words. “Oh, I’m not all that grown up or nearly as pretty as Maman.” she said dismissively with a small smile. "I'm still really klutzy and childish sometimes and…"

"--and late for school?" Her father interjected with a knowing grin.

...and late for school!" Marinette echoed without thinking. Then she thought about it. "OH MY GOSH! I'M LATE FOR SCHOOL!" She dashed to her parents and gave them quick kisses on their cheeks. "See you later!" She said before pausing at the door. “Oh! And nice to meet you M. Drake!” Marinette smiled brightly at him before rushing out the door as quickly as she could.

Once she was gone, the smile faded from Tim’s face and his expression became more guarded. 

Before he was able to address Tom and Sabine again, the petite woman raised her hand to pause him. Then she moved to the front door of the bakery and flipped the sign to “Closed” and set a time for the “Back at…" clock. Then she beckoned the two men to follow her upstairs.

“There,” Sabine said once the door was closed behind the three of them and she motioned towards the living room. “That’s better.” She looked at Tim with tender concern in her expression. “Sorry about that. I thought she'd already left for school. Are you alright?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine," he said as he took a seat on the sofa.

Sabine gave Tim a skeptical look, but didn't press him further as she day inn a nearby chair.

Her husband went to the kitchen and began pouring out several mugs of coffee. “I almost didn't believe my eyes this morning when you came into the bakery.” Tom said as he set the mugs on a tray. “Last time we saw you, it felt like we were never going to see you again.” Tom had a sad expression on his face as he said this before offering the first of the mugs to his guest.

Tim sighed as he took a mug and stared into it. “I never thought I'd ever set foot in Paris again either," he admitted.

“Is it because of Le Papillon?” Sabine asked after a small sip of her coffee. "Is he why you're here?"

Tim nodded. “At first I was just going to slip into Paris undercover, figure out who this terrorist was, and deliver all the information to the authorities before slipping out again back to Gotham. No one was supposed to know I was here.”

“What changed?” Tom asked?

“The League got involved,” Tim answered. “And Bruce asked me to investigate personally. Now I'm on their radar.” 

At the mention of the League and Bruce, both Tom and Sabine frowned. Tom looked mostly concerned while Sabine looked irritated. For a moment it looked like she wanted to say something, but instead chose to focus on drinking her coffee, swallowing her words along with the dark bitter liquid.

"You should have said no." Sabine finally muttered under her breath. Then she shook her head. "No. They should've never asked you in the first place." She looked at Tim with an expression that warred between frustration and worry. "Not after what they did." 

"If I hadn't accepted, then they would've sent a team of my brothers and sisters from Gotham, and we would've ended up tripping over each other." Tim set down his empty mug. "Or worse, Bruce might've decided to come himself to investigate." 

“So what brought you to the bakery?” Tom asked. “You could’ve still investigated for the League and we wouldn’t have even known you were here in Paris."

“The League has evidence that Le Papillon may be directly targeting the children at College Francoise Dupont.”

Tom and Sabine gasped in alarm. “Is Marinette in danger?” Sabine asked immediately. 

“I'm not sure.” Tim admitted with a frown. “We aren't certain how Le Papillon is choosing his victims though there are some solid theories. However, the majority of his targets recently are either students from the school or adults with direct ties to them. Once I leave here I’m going to begin my investigation. I've got a few leads to chase down. Not sure how long this is going to take though.”

“Are you going to be undercover?” Tom asked.

“I’m actually going undercover as myself.”

Tom regarded him with a quizzical look. “How does that work?”

Tim smiled a little. “You’ll see in a day or two." He revealed. "It'll be fairly obvious."

Then Tim reached into an interior pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a small package. "I really need to head out to the school myself to get things started. I’ve got an appointment with Principal Damocles today. However, I wanted to give you both this before I left."

Sabine took the package from Tim and opened it. Inside was a pair of cell phones in two different styles and colors. One was silver. The other was red.

"The silver phone is a direct secured line to me," Tim explained. "If Le Papillon puts either of you or Marinette in danger when I'm not nearby, call or text me. I'll come immediately. I'm staying at Le Grande Paris for the week at least, and if it takes longer to hunt down Le Papillon I’ll be setting up in an apartment not too far from here. I don't plan on leaving the immediate area until this investigation is complete. So I'll be here if any of you need me."

Tom nodded. Then Sabine picked up the red phone. "What about this one?"

Tim's expression became more serious. "That is an emergency line straight to Oracle, my point of contact to the League. If something happens to me… if I get badly hurt or akumatized… I need you to send a message to Oracle. I need you two to let her know that 'Mockingbird' has been compromised."

At that, both Sabine and Tom stared at Tim with open concern. "Then, I pray we never have to use this." Tom said quietly. 

"You and me both," Tim agreed as he prepared to leave.

"It's not fair." Sabine's sad voice caused Tim to pause at the door. "We've missed you so much, and we've wished for so long that you would come back to Paris one day, back into our lives, but not like this."

Tim kept his gaze focused on the door, his brows furrowed before closing his eyes and bowing his head. “I know. But you both know why I couldn’t."

"You know, you don't have to pretend to be a stranger while you're in Paris now, Tim." Tom said hopefully. "Sure the reason you're here is not ideal, and while you never intended to return you are here now." He drew his wife into a sideways one-armed hug and smiled reassuringly at Tim. "Marinette knows you're our friend, and if you’re here for awhile, it would be odd or even suspicious for you to not visit from time to time."

Tim sighed. When he turned to the couple it was clear from his initial expression he intended to give a reluctant denial. "I can't--" But the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at both Tom and Sabine, with their dual hopeful expressions. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'll… think about it," he finally relented. 

Sabine smiled and gave Tim a hug while Tom smiled and nodded. Then the pair of them saw him out of the bakery as he started out towards College Francoise Dupont.

* * *

Meanwhile, a small purple and black butterfly was flitting towards that exact same school, pulsing with dark energies.


End file.
